I Need You
by Epicfangirl10
Summary: A collection of Sherlolly one-shots based on series 3 (does contain some spoilers). Sherlock isn't happy over the fact that Molly is moving on, but is Molly really letting go of Sherlock?
1. The Empty Hearse

Sherlock stared out the window and looked down on Baker Street. He'd missed the view, missed playing the violin while watching the cars pass. It was good to be back home.

The sound of conversation drifted in from the other side of the room. Here he was, together with all the friends he had successfully saved. Everything was working out perfectly.

The door opened, and he heard Molly's voice…

…introducing someone. Tom? Who was Tom?

But he could deal with socializing later, it was time to face the press. "Ready?" Sherlock asked, and John gave an affirmative reply.

Sherlock turned around, and came face to face with a man who looked disturbingly similar to himself. Sherlock blinked, and extended a hand in greeting. Tom nodded and Sherlock eyed his jacket and scarf suspiciously. He couldn't seem to shake the feeling that he was being replaced, but who could replace Sherlock Holmes?

Sherlock moved past Tom to exit the flat, leaving his friends to their champagne. Much to his displeasure, he felt an unpleasant emotion beginning to rise inside him as Molly's laughter echoed down the hallway. It was something in between annoyance and disappointment, and Sherlock didn't like it.

Was it simply the result of wounded ego, or could there be something more behind this negative reaction to Molly's boyfriend? Either way, the feelings would not be voiced.

"Not saying a word…"


	2. The Sign of Three

Sherlock sighed and scanned the room, grateful he was no longer searching for a murderer. John and Mary were smiling and staring into one another's eyes, and Jeanine had apparently found a companion as well. He made his way across the dance floor, the flashing colored lights sweeping across his face. It was time to bow out, and leave the wedding guests to their socializing. Socializing he'd had quite enough of for one day.

The air was slightly cold, so Sherlock slid his coat over his shoulders, turning up the collar.

"Sherlock?"

He turned to see Molly standing outside the exit to the dance hall.

"Leaving so soon?" she asked. Her dress was thin for the cool evening weather, and her arms were crossed to conserve body heat.

He closed the gap between them. "My work here is done," Sherlock answered. He noticed Molly's teeth beginning to chatter, and he slipped his coat off.

"Oh, you don't have to…" Molly protested as he draped the jacket over her shoulders. When she saw that he wasn't listening, she reached up to pull the garment tighter around her.

Though the sun had set, Sherlock could still see by the light coming from the windows of the dance hall. And there was something noticeably missing from her left hand.

"You alright?" Sherlock asked, looking down at her hand.

"What? Oh, yes I suppose so. I gave it back to him, things just weren't working out." Molly let out a small laugh. "He's an idiot, really. We had some fun but…" she trailed off, looking up into Sherlock's eyes. "I want a marriage like John and Mary. The way he looks at her…well, Tom could never look at me like that."

"Oh." Sherlock wasn't quite sure how to respond. People so rarely told him what they were feeling, so he didn't have much practice in appropriate actions after such disclosure had taken place. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be. It's all for the best."

Silence fell for several seconds.

"Do you have time for one more dance, Molly Hooper?" Sherlock asked, extending his hand.

She took the offered hand in her own with a smile. "Of course."

The music floated towards them in the breeze as Sherlock twirled Molly around. She laughed and they swayed to the beat.

"I didn't know you danced, Sherlock."

"You'll find I'm full of surprises, Molly Hooper."

_Oh what a lady, what a night…_


	3. His Last Vow

"Clean?" Molly asked incredulously. John watched a bit dumbfounded as she walked over to Sherlock and slapped him hard across the face. Sherlock didn't have any time to react before she did it again. Twice.

John's eyes widened as Sherlock turned to regard Molly.

"How dare you throw away the beautiful gifts you were born with? And how dare you betray the love of your friends?" Molly asked angrily. "Say you're sorry!" she demanded.

"Sorry your engagement's over. And I'm fairly grateful for the lack of a ring," Sherlock replied sarcastically, lifting a hand to his stinging face. Gone was the sympathetic man who had danced with her at John and Mary's wedding. He was so high he probably couldn't even remember that night.

"Stop it. Just stop it."

John stepped forward to add his rebuke, but Molly wasn't really paying attention. Did every man in her life have to let her down? She hadn't really let her hopes get up concerning Sherlock for a while, but she'd at least maintained the belief that he'd really cleaned himself up this time. The Sherlock Holmes who stood before her was one she'd prayed none of them would ever see again. Molly clenched her fist. She felt like hitting him again.

Molly realized that she hadn't really been listening to the conversation that had been occurring.

"Nice observation skills, Billy," she heard Sherlock say to the man she'd never met. Then, Sherlock's phone beeped, and he glanced down at the screen. "Finally," he breathed in relief.

"Finally what?" Molly asked, her curiosity overcoming her anger.

"Good news?" questioned the man whose name was apparently Billy.

"Excellent news, the best!" Sherlock answered exuberantly. "There's every chance that my drug habit might hit the newspapers. The game is on!" Sherlock began walking towards the door. "Excuse me for a second," he said as he left the room.

Molly blinked. Sherlock must be more stoned than she'd thought if the press finding out about all this was a _good_ thing. As quickly as he had come, Sherlock was gone, and Molly forced him out of her mind. It simply wasn't her problem anymore.

#

Molly was working in the lab the next day when her phone began to ring. She looked down at the screen.

Sherlock.

_He'd better have an apology ready, or so help me I'll hang up. _

"Hello," she answered.

"Molly, I need you to meet me at the jewelry store down the road from Bart's at noon today."

She didn't say anything. What was he thinking? And why in heaven's name would he want to meet her at a jewelry store? It wasn't exactly the place she wanted to go, since the last jewelry store she'd been to had been with Tom to pick out the ring.

"Molly?" Sherlock asked impatiently.

"Yeah, um why?" Molly stammered, trying to collect herself.

"I need your help with something."

_Ugh. _

"Alright, I'll be there."

Molly inwardly cursed herself for agreeing, but she still found herself standing in front of the jewelry store at noon. Sherlock came sweeping down the street in with his collar upturned at exactly 12:01.

"You ready?" he questioned. Molly didn't ask what it was she was supposed to be ready for; what was the point? She just nodded and followed him inside.

"I need your help picking out an engagement ring," Sherlock told her as they walked through the glass doors.

Molly felt like she'd been punched in the gut. An engagement ring? What would Sherlock Holmes need a ring for?

"An engagement ring?" she managed to squeak out.

Sherlock didn't notice her change of tone, which Molly couldn't decide was a good thing or not. "Yes, I have to propose to someone, and I need a good ring."

Never mind. This wasn't a punch, this was a knife.

"Oh, um, I didn't know you were seeing anybody," Molly stammered.

Sherlock turned to regard her. "It's for a case," he stated, as though it was obvious to the rest of the world that this would be the only reason he would require an engagement ring.

Molly nodded, and found that she was breathing again. She bit her lip, frustrated that it would even bother her if Sherlock got married. After all, she had been engaged only weeks before.

A salesman walked up and greeted the two of them; "Hello and welcome!"

"Yes, I'm looking for an engagement ring," Sherlock answered, never one to waste time with small talk.

"Well, you've come to the right place!" the salesman, whose name badge read 'Peter', assured. "We have a fine selection. And may I offer you two my congratulations."

Sherlock started a bit. "Oh, we're not…" he tried to explain as Molly blushed. "She's just helping me pick one out."

"Oh, pardon me, I see," Peter answered, and he led them over to a display case. Sherlock examined the rings and looked over at Molly.

"What do you think?" he asked. Molly stared down at the array of diamond rings, and felt a slight pang in her heart. She rather missed that sparkle on her left hand. Almost more than she missed Tom, which made her feel a little guilty. Tom had been nice, but she missed just being in love most of all.

Molly smiled a little; never in a thousand years had she ever imagined she would be standing over a jewelry counter looking at engagement rings with Sherlock Holmes.

"Something funny?" Sherlock asked, and Molly shook her head.

"This one's gorgeous," she exclaimed, changing the subject and pointing to a ring in the top left corner of the display.

"And not too expensive," Sherlock observed. "Don't want to spend too much since I'm not actually going to marry her."

Molly didn't ask who 'her' was, but simply chuckled and replied "Yes, I think it would be a good choice. The setting is just stunning."

"Alright then," Sherlock decided, turning to Peter. "I'll take that one."

"Very good sir," Peter replied. In a matter of ten minutes, the transaction was complete and they were leaving the jewelry store, a small bag in Sherlock's hand.

"Thank you Molly," Sherlock said, smiling at her.

"It's no problem," she replied, returning that beautiful smile. She turned to go, but Sherlock called after her.

"Molly, wait."

She looked back at him and he closed the gap between them. "About the other day," he began, looking down at the ground. "I'm…well, I'm sorry. I swear, it was all for a case. You have my word on that, but it wasn't fair to put everyone through that. To put you through that."

She wasn't quite sure what to say. An apology had certainly not been expected after so much time had elapsed. She'd assumed Sherlock had either dismissed the incident as inconsequential or deleted it to make room for something else.

"It's alright, I believe you" Molly answered, realizing that she did. "And I'm sorry for hitting you," she added with a grimace.

Sherlock laughed. "Don't worry, I deserved it." He flashed her another heart-stopping smile. "Thank you again," he said, holding up the bag. Molly watched as he turned and walked down the sidewalk, away from Bart's and out of her life once more. But this time, she had a feeling he would be back.

**Well I suppose this is the end until series 4…which had better come soon! Let me know if I should do something similar for the episodes of the next series :) Thanks for reading! **


	4. Valentine's Day

**Got some OTP inspiration, but I wrote this rather quickly and late at night, so please forgive any mistakes. Happy Valentine's Day!**

Valentine's Day

Molly Hooper sat in front of her laptop, a steaming cup of tea sitting beside it on the table. A chat box opened up as soon as she logged on:

_Good morning beautiful. _

Molly allowed herself a smile. Craig had figured out what time she woke up every day, and made a point to see her off before work. It was rather sweet.

Molly had never imagined that she would be communicating so extensively with a man over the internet. She'd always been a meet a guy in a pub sort of girl, but Craig was so kind and attentive that she just couldn't help herself from continuing the relationship. And his profile picture was tall, dark, and handsome. Cliché perhaps, but definitely attractive.

_Good morning_, she replied. _How are you?_

She took a sip of the tea while Craig typed.

_Doing well, about to head off to work. What's your day looking like?_

Craig worked for a law firm on the other side of town. As if his face wasn't enough of an asset, he had a prestigious job too.

_Just another day at the lab, then coming home to watch telly for a bit. _

_Molly Hooper! _Craig exclaimed. _Do you mean to tell me that a lovely lady such as yourself doesn't have a date for Valentine's Day?_

Molly giggled. _I suppose so…_

_Well we shall have to amend that! What do you say, dinner at 7?_

Molly paused before replying, stories of internet stalkers running through her mind. But then again if she met him in the restaurant, it would be a public enough place that nothing could happen.

_I would love that, what kind of food do you like?_

_I'm quite partial to Angelo's myself. _

_I'll meet you there at 7 then. It's a date!_

#

Molly didn't get much done at work that day. She was really quite looking forward to meeting Craig, he was such a gentleman. Finally, it was time to go home and get ready. Molly stood in front of her closet, trying to decide on an outfit. She tried on several before settling on a silk black dress with a white sash. After spraying a few squirts of perfume onto her neck, she headed down to the street and hailed a cab.

The cab pulled up to Angelo's a few minutes later, and Molly stepped out. She didn't see Craig in the foyer, but she looked down at her phone and saw she was a little early.

Molly straightened and took a deep breath when she saw a tall, dark shadow approaching the door. She smiled, almost certain it was Craig…

But instead of her date, none other than Sherlock Holmes stepped through the door. His eyes met hers and widened in surprise; apparently he hadn't been expecting to see her here of all places.

"Molly," he breathed her name, surprise leaking into his tone. He looked down at her dress; unfortunately only deducing why she was here and who she was meeting and _not_ checking her out.

"Sherlock, what are you doing here?" Molly asked, noticing that he'd entered alone. Which meant he was probably on a case. She could deduce too.

"Just…working on something," Sherlock muttered, obviously uninterested in divulging any additional details. His eyes moved back up to her face, and he smiled. But it was obvious that he was a bit strained. "Would you excuse me?" he asked, moving towards the back.

"Of course," Molly replied. Sherlock left just as another man entered the door. This time, it was Craig and he came in displaying a ravishing smile.

"Molly! You're even more beautiful in person!"

Molly blushed a little. "Thank you, Craig. You look very handsome tonight," she added, noticing his black suit.

"Shall we?" he asked, extending a hand. Molly took it and they were seated at a table near the corner of the establishment. As they were seated, Molly looked around but Sherlock was nowhere to be seen.

But that didn't matter. She had a Valentines date with a nice, respectable man and she was going to enjoy it without any thoughts of Sherlock. She looked over at Craig, who was staring at her with a slight smile playing around his lips. She smiled back, and picked up the menu before her.

"Would you like to start off with some wine?" their waiter asked. Craig turned to her questioningly.

"I'd love some," Molly replied and they agreed on some Fontodi Chianti Classico. The waiter brought the ruby red wine back in tall glasses and left them to decide on an appetizer.

Craig really was a charming man, Molly realized as they perused the menu. He had so much more class than most of the guys she knew. She found herself laughing at his jokes and he really listened whenever she told him a story. It had been a while since someone actually looked into her eyes and paid explicit attention to what she had to say. It was rather nice.

She and Craig had just finished their appetizers when Sherlock came stalking out of the kitchen, dressed as a waiter. She sighed inwardly, hoping that whatever mischief London's only consulting detective was getting into wouldn't interfere with her date.

Sherlock made his way to the couple at the table right beside Molly and Craig's and made a point of catching Molly's eye. After taking his customers drink orders, Sherlock began gesturing with his head towards the back of the room. What in heaven's name was he doing?

Craig must've noticed her confused expression. "Everything alright?" he asked.

"Oh, yes everything's fine," Molly replied, smiling at him. "I think I'm just going to freshen up a bit, I'll be right back."

Craig nodded and Molly headed towards the restrooms. Sherlock walked right up to her.

"Craig Scott, is that the name he goes by?" Sherlock asked.

Molly stared at him, a little taken aback. "Um, yes but what are you doing here? And why do you know about Craig?"

"Don't answer questions with more questions Molly, I haven't the time. George Smith, Phillip Cage, Timothy Edwards and more recently Craig Scott is wanted in three countries for tax fraud. He's been evading the authorities for years, but I finally caught up with him during his most recent stay here in London."

"You're kidding me, right?" Molly asked, not willing to accept that yet _another_ date was a criminal.

Sherlock's intense dark eyes met hers. "Why would I be kidding?"

Molly sighed. Sherlock was on a case, and that case was her date. Of course.

"I need you to keep him here until Lestrade gets here, alright?"

"Um, sure."

"Thank you, it shouldn't take long."

Molly cleared her throat, took a deep breath, and returned to the table. She took a sip of wine and tried to make her smile look as natural as possible.

"So, Molly…tell me more about yourself. What do you enjoy doing on the weekends?"

"Well, I have a cat…"

"No, you don't look like a crazy cat lady to me…"

_And you don't look like a criminal…_

Molly laughed instead of voicing her thoughts. "I don't know how crazy I am, but I suppose I am a cat lady."

Craig laughed and Molly looked down at her plate rather than look into his sparkling eyes. _Hurry up Greg._

The waiter returned before Molly could say anything else. She looked up and was surprised to see that their previous waiter had been replaced with Sherlock Holmes.

"Hey!" Craig exclaimed. "You're Sherlock Holmes!"

"I am Sherlock Holmes, and I'm here to tell you what's on the menu for tonight," Sherlock replied. Molly saw the door to Angelo's swing open and a familiar silver-haired figure accompanied by two officers come inside.

Craig stood up hastily, shaking the table and almost spilling the wine on the pure white tablecloth.

"What's on the menu," Sherlock continued, stepping in front of Craig. "Is arrest. More precisely, your arrest. Whatever your _real_ name is."

A look of panic crossed Craig's face, and his soft gaze turned harsh. He began to make a mad dash for the exit, but Lestrade intercepted the attempted escape.

"Come with me Mr. Scott," Lestrade ordered, securing Craig in handcuffs. Molly didn't look as they took her former date outside.

"Thank you Molly that worked perfectly," Sherlock said. "I'd been following Craig all afternoon, and wouldn't have been able to keep him stalled here without your help."

"Not a problem," Molly assured although this Valentine's Day had turned out to be nothing _but_ a problem. She gathered her jacket and stood to leave.

"Can I walk you home?" Sherlock asked.

_Why not? _Molly asked herself. Even Sherlock and his rather unpolished personality couldn't make tonight any worse. "Sure, I'd like that."

Sherlock left some cash on the table, and they walked out onto the street. London was still wide awake, and many couples roamed the streets. They were just passing the pub outside Molly's flat when Sherlock stopped and turned to her.

"I know tonight probably didn't go as planned. Can I buy you a drink to somewhat make up for everything?" he asked.

Molly grinned. She wasn't quite ready for the night to end. "I'd love that."

"In that case Molly Hooper, let's go inside and I can tell you the chemical formulas of each alcoholic beverage."

Molly laughed and took his arm. "Alright Sherlock, just as long as it isn't the tobacco ash this time…"


End file.
